#rexheroum

“I fear I may not be of much use, in this discussion of politics. I know your here to strengthen the bond of our two kingdoms and I as the maiden princess must offer ideas on high lord and high realm issues.” She swallow back her anxiety.

Sigrid looked in front of themselves, holding up a hand as they focused their magic. “Mama, can I practice shifting into my dragon form instead please?” The redhaired child pleaded, struggling with her necromancy lately, preferring to practice a less painful shift into her smaller dragon form.

Hel didn't want to be the kind of mother a child abhors for her strictness. She wanted structure but not constraints. And even so, it was hard for her to accept that her child was more her father than Hel. The giantess sighed softly and laid a gentle but firm hand on Sigrid's shoulder.

"Of course, my love." She replied gently, "You remember what your father does? Breathe deep and lax your muscles." She smiled happily at Sigrid, her frustration quickly dissolving in the adoration she would always hold for the little beastie.

She could understand exactly what he was saying. Being a monarch was as close to being a symbol as anyone could be. The weight of it was heavy on one's shoulders, even if it was something that she wouldn't trade for anything in the world. "The trick, I think, is to make sure to have someone there with you that'll remember who you are. Even when things get rough."

"Oh, hardly," She shook her head as she waved off the notion with a smile. "I just happen to be quite observant." Being astute was a talent she had learned over the years, a skill honed and mastered by hours of observing from afar. Body language was often just as telling as words were, and Anne prided herself on being able to read someone's body language. Alastair's concern over his sister, however, was undoubtedly clear to anyone, with or without such a keen eye.

"France? That will be quite the journey." Anne couldn't hide the surprise in her voice, though she tried her best to reel it in. Straightening her posture, she took a breath and tried to regain her gentle expression. "Marriage, in any country, can be quite an overwhelming experience. Regretfully, I wasn't able to attend my own sister's wedding, but I know it wore her out extensively."

Hearing about Marabeth's betrothal through letters had been hard for Anne. Although she wasn't very close with her elder sister, it was still an important day that all three Shawcross daughters had dreamt of for themselves. It was always assumed that Annelise would be the first one married, but Anne found it somewhat amusing that the least friendly of the trio was the one to find a match first. She wished she could've been present at Marabeth's wedding, but she'd had to settle for Charlotte's recollection of the events via letter.

"It's good that you'll be there for her. She'll need the support of someone trustworthy." Anne offered a smile, folding her hands in front of her. "Are you worried because she'd worried? I would feel much the same if it were my sister, so I can't imagine how it must be for a twin. Is her husband a good man?"

She didn't know what to tell him, really, but she knew that the burdens that he carried must have been plenty. A soft breath was taken as she looked into his eyes. "Not a bad man." She said with some assurance before she lowered her eyes once more. "But I do not think that such thoughts should be entertained too often or they might take root at the wrong time and what will happen then?"

"You're very welcome, my prince." Charles answered gracefully as the young man accepted the dagger which he could keep at his belt. It was an exquisite handiwork from a French blacksmith Charles had bought years ago when they were present at the Field of the Cloth of Gold. He had been a young man then, and he felt like a weapon as this belonged to young men. He shook his head at the question, since there was never a need to repay. "If anything, I hope that you will become a most generous and good king, just like your father." The Duke replied, as only courtiers could.

"Shall we walk for a bit, my prince?" He suggested. The weather was warm and Charles did like to have some activity, even if was lowkey.

“ will you be my princess for the ball ? ”